Days on End
by SniperInTheHouse
Summary: Nobody wants to talk about the truth of XCOM. Created so the select people could kill and eliminate competition... Civilian targets. Under the guise of a forgotten UN project. Then this forgotten organization was put to the test. So many of us died and so many of us became less as human. I remembered those endless days, days that always went on as the deaths kept on counting up.


**A/N**

I really liked the concept of this story, but I feel like the earlier story ideas were just not going anywhere. Instead, I decided to rewrite the story and go from a different angle. I would appreciate any feed back.

Introduction

I remember when I was younger. The stars were so bright and luminous that I hated the day. The day time meant school and a scorching ball. The night was a different case. It was cool calm and relaxing. It didn't demand work like the day. Instead it simply asked you to look up. The chill to me wasn't because I was cold. I thought it was because I believed and in some way understood how small I really was.

Life would go on like many others, but I always looked up to the stars. I dared to dream. I dared to image a day where humanity finally reached our destiny to not be content with looking up at the galaxy and the stars beyond it, but we would reach out and grab hold of our place in the galaxy. We would one day carve our name in the stars. I never thought about aliens. Other worldly beings. Why? I always thought humanity had a perfect environment to evolve faster than any other race among the stars. I was blinded by my pride. Who could possibly rival humanity and our beauty. We were destined to be remembered in the stars.

I joined the army national guard. I remember the night where we did gear checks before we were sent to our Drill Sargent's and 10 weeks of fuck fuck games. I was crouched repacking. I looked up and saw the moon. It was beautiful bright and seemed to watch over me warmly. I went through BCT always keeping my eye to the moon. It brought me comfort as if it was a mother watching her child. I never quivered under the stress of BCT. The moon was my support and on the night of my graduation I saw the moon bright once again.

I was so full of hope when I looked up at the night sky's. Now I know better. The stars are filled with the unknown. Evil xenos that need to be killed. Creatures without remorse of compassion. Today people look at me in disgust when they learned I was a xeno hunter. The day the aliens came I became the night to protect the day. I became a soldier so someone else didn't have to.

CHAPTER I

Sir, I was hoping to talk to you about your time in the invasion years. The young 'woman' asked. She was fresh out of the university and landed a job as a journalist. She wasn't some hot shot. She merely had a job a steady paycheck and plenty of dirty laundry to air out. She definitely didn't enjoy this job though. She hated talking to old people about the invasion twenty or so years ago. She honestly didn't know how long ago it was. She knew that the old man in front of her was just another 'survivor'. A derelict cop who hid until organized resistance happened, a child who lived with a resistance fighter, a guerrilla for whatever reason probably escaping from jail and if she was really lucky a soldier who fought in a major battle before resorting to once again guerrilla warfare. The reporter gave the old man another glance. He looked like an older gentleman maybe in his late fifties or sixties. He sat with pride straight up like a soldier on parade grounds wearing a white collar shirt with black slacks and some nondescript shoes. He sat on a wooden rocking chair and she also Sat on one.

The old man just rocked back and forth. Back and forth. Back and for- "I was out in the fields when it happened." Tyla groaned in her head. Another country hick that joins the resistance and fought like once a year and by fight some act of vandalism. The old man continued despite Tyla's scowl that slowly grew on her face. We just mopping up an area" great and he was a peon Tyla thought. "I saw a ship land and didn't think much of it" Tyla had enough. Her boss whom she had a crush on asked her to interview an old friend. Great, he claimed he was an active member of some outfit fighting the resistance. He thought it might've been even the illustrious warriors. He spoke with great respect to the man and added the "and I'll forever be in your debt" number. For Tyla, it worked out. An assignment, a favor, and a nice dinner to talk to her boss about the man.

She was wrong and decided to get kicked out rather than suffer through a farm boys story. Now was the time time to ask direct questions and check the boxes on her notepad. "So you didn't notice an alien drop ship come streaking from the sky could possibly be a problem!?" She asked or demanded it was hard to tell with her almost droning voice . The old man looked off for a brief second no doubt thrown off guard before saying. "No we knew it was a problem" "Then why didn't you act on it!" Tyla almost yelled hoping to work the old man up and the frustration of another dead end story. The man just sat there. Tyla inwardly smirked knowing this was it another boring story or a get off my lawn moment. The man slowly took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes before saying. "There was blood. So much blood... I we it was decided" the man stumbled over himself and as he looked at Tyla she saw a much younger man's eyes. His posture suddenly shifted to a lazier one. His eyes had no fatherly light. Instead, a raw unhindered energy shone through. The energy wasn't of youth, but some disgusting raw energy that felt animalistic. Finally, he said "It started a week before the fields. Sgt. Volm was sent out to do recon and an elimination mission... My squad sentry squad was told to make sure no one escaped " the woman sighed and said "so your men were sent to kill the aliens?" The old man just watched her scribble on her pad before he finally said. "No... Humans... We were sent to kill a whole village of humans" the reporter looked up expecting to see a face of slight confusion like her uncle when he claimed to be a resistance fighter despite records saying he was apart of a peace keeping outfit that reportedly only did paper work. His face was that of sad confession. "I killed a lot of people we all did it was our job. Sgt. Volm fired the first sh "

* * *

CHAPTER II

The landscape was void of any noticeable features aside from a small little bush if you could call it that. It was what you'd expect from any plant in the desert. A small little orb of gnarled branches going whatever which way and with large open spaces you could easily see. A more dutiful observer would notice there was a slight buildup of sand by the bush but that wasn't something that would raise a red flag. A broken branch laid on top of the sand a few feet off. The wind picked up and as did a branch. There was just an odd curiosity to it. It didn't tumble away and roll away from its friends. Instead it gracefully levitated up a few inches off the was oddly straight and perfectly round now that it was completely off the sand in fact it looked more closely like a one noticed this odd curiosity hundreds of meters away. Only one man did, Volm peered through his scope four hundred meters or so at his target. He had both eyes open. The left eye saw the big picture a huge crowd reaching towards the center. His right eye saw the small some ways the bigger picture, Volm quickly latched onto the woman was the source of all his damn pain. Seven days of preparation. Three days of travel. Two days of hiking and six hours of crawling and creating a depression in the ground to be nothing more than a twig on the scalding hot sands in the African heat, or the cool sand of the deadly mission was stuff of a spy novel. A target was creating trouble for his organization. The rousing of crowds and sudden increase of industry in a normally sleepy area. People working when before they were content to farm juuuust enough to live on. Now, people farmed like never before. People met and talked with a sudden energy that could threaten his employers.

A decision was made. Volm a combat vet of three deployments and a sniper for his whole career was chosen. The mission was heavy alpha black ops. A spotter would potentially compromise the mission. Food was packed in not even as an MRE but wrapped in cloth and jammed in one ammo pouch on his combat webbing. A rifle was taken a camelbak on. Water with a piece of jerky in it. Two canteens on his flick and a rucksack of everything else at the evac zone three hours away where he left it when he started to hero in his scope was the reason for his pain. He was almost out of lukewarm water and didn't want to risk the canteens yet. He was fortunate the leader came an hour early. A breath in a face in the scope. It was obscured by a pair of sunglasses and scarf around their head and mouth. A breath out the figure took off the scarf and bright blond hair was shimmering in the freedom of the sun. Pause a woman vigorously shook the future's hand now showing a young woman no doubt in her twenties. Bam!

A bullet traveled out of the rifle towards the figure. A second elapsed but an eternity for the shooter. Doubt always filled Volm despite never missing a shot on missions like these. It was second before you knew. A second you could contempt speet the rifle whispered and the round sliced through the wheat golden hair leaving red in its wake. Screams could almost be heard from this distance. Volm smiled and crept away. The sniper disappeared. No nickname,because no one ever lived the tale of Volm on a mission like this they only knew a sniper had come and a life had left the world. Volm had another successful mission and a can of dip in his rucksack calling his name. Before he crawled too far he spared one last look at the chaos in the little village square. Volm crawled a hundred meters before standing up. He wore nothing but his ACUs and flick. A blanket the color of the desert was draped over his shoulders swinging with Volm's every step like a cape for a hero. In an hour Volm reached his rucksack and put his blanket away and put it on. He tore through some jerky from his rucksack and drank water from his camelbak he filled with his canteens and from the water he store in his rucksack. Volm marched to his evac site. There wasn't much to say aside from the changing of time. Volm took no breaks as he walked lost in his thoughts and soon the moon came and the water left Volm. He halted to eliminate waste once in a hurry to reach his extraction. He soon was walking up a ridge line and spotted his evac a few meters away. Picking up the pace, Volm nodded to the load master and took a seat as the door closed lost in his thoughts. He wondered about what he wanted to eat. He wondered when his next shooting competition was damn was it Wednesday or Friday. Most of all what truly occupied his mind in the largest sense was he forgot something. Volm closed his eyes and did an inventory check as the evac sprinted him away from the AO.

Volm changed hands a few more times. And eight hours later he stood in a suburban house with a pristine wooden fence with an American flag gently waving in the breeze. Volm ascended the white wooden steps and into the house. His first reaction was people. They were everywhere. He despised crowded rooms. A mixture between a country upbringing of self reliance and weeks in the field alone. A woman walked up to Volm and hugged him and gave him a kiss on the cheek and smiled and brightly exclaimed. "Honey I didn't think you'd get back so early!" David Volmer smiled and said "the Japanese were easier than than expected. It was just a waiting game" Terra Volmer smiled and rolled her eyes as she led David into the kitchen."More like they didn't have the patience to renegotiate with you!" Terra's laughter followed as David replied back "you know me" Terra smiled and said "ever the persistent business man!"David laughed as they entered the kitchen to see his son blowing out the candles of a watched this as he remembered what he forgot. He felt like a terrible man as he watched his son turn the hell did I leave my brass the left pocket or right pocket of my flick. That was David'slife a detached shell of a human just waiting for the next kill

* * *

CHAPTER III

Sgt. Tate quickly moved through the hall way to Sgt. Li's room. Sgt. Tate was a stocky black skinned male. He had seven years of conventional service with the Marines as a FO before going MIA to this new organization. He had plenty of black marks against him. Promotions mostly because he had the look of a drill instructor all 6'2 and 220 pounds of him.A talented rifleman with very little to show for it trading medals for reduced punishments or a blind eye here and there. He wore his marine BDU's with pride despite his less than model career. despite this Sgt. Tate wasn't too happy about having to see Sgt. the two of them got along well enough to have their own squad, Sgt Li was very...sensitive about his height.

He stood 5'6 with his combat boots on 5'4 without them. He weighed 120 pounds on a good day normally 116. He was a small fry barely meeting requirements for the army. He had to beg and plead to get in during a late night confession. He wasn't a small fry on paper. A service full of distinction. Three combat tours with only 7 years of service in the army. 6 of which was as an army ranger graduating at . Li admitted to finishing the last ruck March on his ranger buddies shoulders malnourished and very very asleep. His ranger buddy carried him the whole way with ranger instructors turning a blind eye to the small ranger who beat all odds making it to that last point. He repaid those instructors with dozens of reports of carrying people to safety. Sgt. Li joined this new outfit when he lost his ranger buddy to cancer. They were going to attempt to go Delta by going on another tour. Sgt. Li was a Drill Sargent briefly to "carry" him to the finish. An offer was made and Sgt. Li joined to get better pay to take care of his ranger buddies . Tate crossed the training room in a flurry of movement before halting. A much smaller soldier was running on a tread mill between men that looked like giants compared to him. still chuckled at seeing Sgt. Li. Always the lowest in PT scores and just about everything but had the best combat record on any mission Sgt. Tate loved the irony."Sargent Li!" Sgt. Tate's voice boomed.

Everyone turned feeling as many soldiers and Marines called "a disturbance in the force" Sgt. Li felt the air around him get displaced. Either someone was pointing a shop vac at him or Sgt. Tate came. Sgt. Li whipped of the tread mill and turned around to see the behemoth in front of him. Sgt. Li tried to protect his little bit of dignity having to actually crane his neck up an inch or two to look at Sgt. Tate's wild to self wear boots at all times. Sgt. Li thought as Sgt. Tate shouted three feet away. Thank God he's using his inside voice as a little bit of spittle found its way onto Sgt. Li's brow. " has neutralized the target. Higher wants to know when we can go to the FOB and take it out!" Sgt. Li's ears rang a little bit but he was slowly getting used to Sgt. Tate's voice. That's saying a lot after their one year anniversary of being on the same platoon.

"Tell Torres he's on support we'll head out in 12 hours." Sgt Tate laughed meaning Sgt. Li felt an earthquake down on earth. "Torres is enjoying the company of 1st platoon's privates" Sgt. Li muttered "I'll get him sar ent" and moodily left. Sgt. Tate laughed as he saw Sgt. Li depart wearing his brand new army PT uniform. While most wore normal work out clothes Sgt. Li never did. He always expected discipline above and beyond of a Drill Sargent. Sgt. Tate and Sgt. Volm prevented mandatory cadence runs, formations, inspections and etc. Sgt. Li still managed to make all his men wear their respective uniforms at all times while on duty. Sgt. Tate started to make his way towards the mess hall. Sgt. Tate was always hungry. He wondered as an afterthought what Torres was up to.

"You are all going to war!" At least that's what Sgt. Torres wanted to say. His thick Colombian accent did very little to help. It came out as "you ah awl going to wah!" With the letter A being raised a pitch or two higher than it should. A description did little to describe the hilarity of the scene. Fifty soldiers were doing push ups while Sgt. Torres walked around screaming about going to hell and war was it an . Li was born with being able to understand all accents beside the god forsaken country"twang" there was no twang about it. It was the accent of inbred and a sub-race of Americans who lived in the hills and trailers. What the hell was almar fucking palmer. Was it a sex position?Or a area? Anyways Sgt. Torres wasn't a problem for Sgt. Li making him the unofficial spokesman to 3rd platoon fourth squad. All of South american descent. Sgt. Tate and Sgt. Volm had a mix and Sgt. Li had mostly very professional soldiers who spoke squad had their own sub culture going on. They killed a guy trying to hit on one of the soldiers sister during her quinceanera literally burning him to death and used his skull as ornament during the day of the dead. The kid just asked the birthday girl how old she was. A huge sign of disrespect to fourth squad probably part of the reason why they had some form ofa gang culture on base.

Sgt. Tate's men loved soccer and basketball and any other sport with ball in it besides rugby only sport that broke the rule. They even played racquetball except it was played in their bay with tennis rackets and a soft ball aiming for each others... Sgt. Volm had the PTSD soldiers. They watched UFC and dipped and... That was about it they went home more than any one else sothey didn't really create a culture. Sgt. Li had them professional weapon maintenance and training occupied most of their time. Recreation was mostly blowing random Africa villages up or destroying convoys filled with militia. They blamed it on local war Lords of . Torres! Without missing a beat Sgt. Torres managed to say "yes Sargent Li what can I do for you" with his heavy accent and in cadence to another work out. "We got an OP in five" looked around to see the hopeful looks on the soldiers. They looked like Jesus came down and told them they won the lottery. "Roger Sgt. Flutterkicks!" "Flutter kicks Sgt. Flutter kicks!" As Sgt. Li left he could've sworn he heard someone choke those words out like he was about to cry.

While Sgt. Li left Sgt. Torres was saying "one two three" as he calmly motioned his men to get off the floor. There was only eight of them including Sgt. Torres because Mendez R was off duty. The eight soldiers all looked relatively the same. To an outsider they looked like a group of Mexicans to the squad they were vastly different than one another. They all stood five foot two to five foot five and had the same high and tight hair cut with a few variants of longer on the top or just needing to be cut again. Sgt. Torres took great pride in having the best close combat specialists. Shotguns and other CQB weapons were the standard load out. They carried explosives and a few knives to combat. Sgt. Torres grinned as all his men wore bandannas around the head like ganbangers rather than a helmet. It was hell to get that pass CO but worth it Sgt. Torres thought as he wrapped his own blood red bandanna around his head. He grabbed his pistol and slid it in a chest piece holster and then grabbed a crow bar from the inside of his locker before he walked to the briefing. He wore just his chest armor and knee pads with a tan shirt and army ACU pants his soldiers modeled after him except with shot guns and different variants of of camouflage pants. Entering, Sgt. Torres noticed all the other squads were already present. His squad arriving dead last.

Sgt. Torres couldn't help but feel disdain towards Sgt. Volm's cowboys all wore their uniforms and full battle rattle except two or three opt out for cowboy hats or skull helmets. Sgt. Tate's men wore full battle rattle but everything was lazily done. Helmet straps unsecured and men tossing a basketball around. Their uniforms were fine besides the part they wore random basketball shirts or jerseys. They were meat heads in Sgt. Torres' eyes. Sgt. Li's men were slightly better wearing full uniforms and helmets straps on. The only problem was they couldn't go with the flow. They acted like they were still apart of the paramilitary outfits they once were apart of. He could see some of their men growing agitated at the surrounding squads. just couldn't understand why all the other squads weren't as disciplined and coordinated as his own . Tate led the briefing.

"Sgt. Volm has neutralized the trouble maker. Our job is to go through the emergency exits and insure that village is gone. We don't need civilians within twenty miles of us much less nine Hawk squad will lead the assault." Sgt. Torres' men merely nodded as if they were informed a self fulfilling prophecy had occurred. "The badger squad will combine with raider squad to provide support." Volm's soldiers looked uneasily on Sgt. Tate's meat heads who carried two LWGs for their ten man squad. It usually took three men to make a machine gun team. Two men for most special forces outfits(gunner and guy who carried all the extra ammo) They made it one man. Both were beasts of men. "Sentry squad will insure there is... No potential leak of our actions..." the ominous silence fell. All the men that were newer looked around slightly confused until they saw on the board the words "Security hazard" and the understandings flowed. Unlike other squads sentry squad never minded the "dirty" jobs, they simply did any mission that came their way with brutal efficiency. Due to the odd nature of the organization, no one actually got full reports on missions they didn't participate in. Rumors had it Sentry squad get deployed to do the more hush hush ops.

Sgt. Tate looked around the room and said "any questions". The soldiers didn't need to ask one. It was as they would call it a crash and burn mission. A quick insertion with a helicopter or vehicle and just box them in. Burn anything in question. The mission would take less than half an hour for a thorough job. The door opened to let in 1st LT Taylor. He quickly scanned the room and said as he looked around. "Up top we will send you on flat bed trucks like the locals. You go in 15 mikes and will get there and exfil ASAP. We got reports of another mission that needs to be done and sentry squad is being called up." Sgt. Li's men didn't look surprised at all while LT Taylor looked like he was just told. Perks to being a sketchy squad Sgt. Tate couldn't help but assume. "Sentry squad you will be exfilled by the sky ranger and will get sent to your designated mission AO". LT. Taylor held a manila folder to Sgt. Li who quickly crossed the room to grab the folder and nod to his squad. "Move out" was LT. Taylor's solemn voice.

The soldiers quickly left the briefing room to head to the mission at hand. Badger and Raider squad immediately headed to the trucks. Meanwhile, Sentry squad went to the armory to rearm to be prepared for both of the ops. Hawk squad were the only ones left in the op room and Sgt. Torres eyed his men. "We keep a eye on all corners. I don't need another fuck up" and with that Hawk squad headed to the trucks. No one knew that today would live in infamy and the impact they would have. To them it was just another op. To the future this was the start of a legend that inspired humanity.

* * *

**CODEX**

**People**

Old man- 50? year old man who fought in the resistance?

Tyla- A reporter

Sgt. Tate- Sgt. of Raider squad ex-marine

Sgt. Li- Sgt. of Sentry squad. former army ranger

Sgt. Torres- Sgt. of Hawk squad

Sgt. Volm- Sgt. of Badger squad

LT. Taylor- Leader of those said squads forming bravo platoon

**Squads**

Raider squad- Heavy weapons squad usually doing escort missions

Sentry squad- Black ops group highly versatile

Hawk squad- CQB squad highly efficient in all forms of urban ops

Badger squad- Constitutes of marksmen usually sent on protection mission


End file.
